A musicall consort of heauenly harmonie (compounded out of manie parts of musicke) called Churchyards charitie

A MVSICALL CONSORT OF HEAuenly harmonie ( compounded out of manie parts of Musicke ) called CHVRCHYARDS CHARITIE .

Imprinted at London , by Ar. Hatfield , for William Holn . 5.

1595.

TO THE RIGHT HONORAble ROBERT DEVEREVX Earle of Essex and E●e , V●count of Hereford , Lord Ferrer of Chartley , Bor●her and Lou●ine , Master of the Queenes Maiesties horse , Knight of the noble order of the garter , and one of hir Maiesties honorable priuie Counsell : Thomas Churchyard wisheth increase of all wished honor , happines of life , worlds good will , and euerlasting fame .

A Greater boldnes cannot be committed ( Right Honorable ) than to present Pamphlets and Poetrie to noble Counsellors that gouernes a publike state , though in all ages reasonable writers , that kept an orderly compasse , were suffered in verse or prose ( so their inuentions were not farced ful of vanitie ) to shew good will in the dedication of some honest labors , to such honorable personages , as was woorthie of any good volumes , or in the woorth of vertue , excelled the waight and value of numbers , that neither merits laudation , nor shew no sufficiency to be saluted with a booke . But what I see and the world reports of your Lordship , makes me somwhat hardie to offer a present , yet simplenes of spirit and want of profound learning , hath so muffled my muses , that they dare not speake , nor I presume to write , neuertheles thinking on your twenty fold honorable father ( my great good Lord ) matchlesse in our world , that caried in his breast the feare of God , and wan with his life the loue of men ( so noble was his minde ) I stood nothing discouraged , bicause a soldier like noble sonne of his is left aliue , to follow the steps of so stately a father , and to shine aboue and beyond the course of thousands in this time , or is likely to come after this age . To treate of particulars in that behalfe , I should presume too far , and vnaduisedly come too short of matter fit for this cause . Wherefore I am to leaue those deepe considerations , and drop into the shallownes of mine owne studies , that brings foorth a booke of the coldnes of charitie , bicause a great noble man , told me this last wet sommer , The weather was too colde for Poets . On which fauorable words , I bethought me that charitie in court and all the world ouer , was become so cold , that neither hot sommer , feruent fire , nor heate of sunne could make warme againe , in that comfortable sort as our forefathers haue felt it : so my good L. following that onely theame of cold weather ( being apt to take any theam ) to write on , in as sweete a phrase and termes as I may deuise ( putting in the praise of Poets withall ) I smoothly passe ouer ( without bitter speeches ) the corruption of this world , and disguised maners of men , riding by the new fanglenes of a multitude , and not dashing any ones infirmitie , with blot of disgrace , or blemish of credit , hoping the best sort shall stand pleased with , howsoeuer the woorst ( happily may be touched ) do of meere malice , wrest awry the honest meaning of a plaine writer . For the dutifull regard , towards the purchasing of your L. fauor hath so sifted euery word and sentence , that no one verse or line shall bee offensiue to a sounde iudgement and good construction . And for that now ( by reason of great age ) my wits and inuentions are almost wearied with writing of bookes ( this being one of the last ) I tooke this taske in hand , at large to dilate somewhat of Charitie , which would to God I had as great power to reuiue , as the world hath occasion to remember . Thus ouer-bold to trouble your L. so long with the reading of so simple an Epistle , I proceed vnder your honorable supportation , to my purposed matter , wishing your L. euerlasting fame , credit , and honor , most humbly at commandement ,

THOMAS CHVRCHYARD .

AN EVERLASTING MEMORIE OF CHRISTIAN comfort to the Queenes most excellent Maiestie . O Grashous dame , in whose graue iudgment great The heauens hie , lies open plaine to sight The earth belowe , takes from thy regall seat ( In darkest daies ) his hope and cleerest light . For at thy feet , a world of woorthies fall ▪ ELIZABETH , a monarke to them all . An Empresse heere , three kingdoms showes vs plaine On which three realms , our Queen may rightly raine . O treble Queen , the sweete and highest part That we like best , and shrillest voice doth sound The onely meane , to shew deepe musicks art Where all the skill ; of well set song is found . Grant silly man , a grace that meanes to sing Of heaunly loue , and of none other thing . He sings of peace , a song should lull asleepe The fellest feends , and fearfull bugs below Peace charms with words , the wolfe that wearies sheep That neither lambe , nor kid astraie shall goe . For as the hen , hir chickens keepes from kite So charitie , doth saue hir children all From common plagues , and wicked worlds despite And all the wrath , that from the clouds can fall . She spreds hir wings , to keepe hir birds from cold And learns poore chicks , to picke vp graines of gold . This charitie , so checkles ore hir broode She scrapes the earth , to make hir yoong ones feed And freely from , hir selfe doth spare them foode She takes in hart , such care for those that neede . If charitie , were not the onely nurse To nourish vp , each thing that life doth beare This backward world , would grow from ill to woorse And brutish ●olke , would banish loue and feare . Warme Christian loue , as long as life doth last Doth bide the shocke , and brunt of eurie blast . And kindled once , in any princely hart It burnes and flames , as hot as Aethna hill Creepes throw the vains , and nerues in euerie par● Cannot be quencht , with water , wit nor skill . A heaunly grace , maintains a heaunly loue Each thing diuine , diuinely is set foorth Planted like rocke , that nothing may remoue Garnisht like gold , or perle of greatest woorth . The charitie , I meane is garded so And for hir saith , through fire and aire may goe . But what is that , to him that sings a song ●f twenty parts , when he one voice must sound Presumes to tell , a tale perchance too long To sacred eares , whose iudgement is profound Sing hie or lowe , how ere the tune he takes For one small iar , the song begins againe No shift may serue , for concord musicke makes Most harmonie , consists in pricksong plaine . Diuision doth , but teare in peeces small The minnems long , and little crotchets all . Full softly blowes , a quiet calmie winde A still milde voice , doth please the hearers well No note nor ring , so much contents the mind As solemne sound , of cleere sweet siluer bell . O that my muse , might get so great a grace As credit win , throw any sound it shoes I die to see , one fearfull frowne of face Where these meeke words , and humble verses goes . Now mirthles song , begin thy new found note As strange a straine , as any eare hath hard If world would learne , to sing the same by rote Good charitie , should grow in more regard . Play well thy part , so shall the greatest smile And meanest sort , of force be pleasd the while . Your Maiesties most humble seruant , Thomas Churchyard .

WHat song should please , a sacred princes eares Which likes no tunes , but musick sweet & sound Weake were my muse , to offer sighes and teares Where ioyfull mirth , and gladnes doth abound But troubled mind , that rowles on restles ground In sorrow sings , the secrets of the hart Because sad man , can sing no sweeter part . O charitie helpe . Of charitie , that makes a solemne noies A strange consort , I hope well ●unde I bring Of heauenlie loue , that passeth earthlie Ioies In formall wise , a true set song I sing Would God the sound , through al the world might ring That charitie , which ech one ought to keepe Might waken now , that long hath laine a sleepe . O charitie helpe . Shee hath bin brought , in slumber sundrie waies With lullabie , as nurse doth rocke hir childe The cradle gaie , of pleasant nights and daies With too much ease , hath charitie beguilde And now God wot , the world is waxt so wilde That charitie , must needs make ech thing tame That wilde discord , hath brought cleane out of frame . O charitie helpe . Pity and ruth , are fled or banisht quite And in their place , comes rigor rudelie cled Godlie remorse , is drownd in worlds delite Good cons●ence feares , that charitie is dead Loue looketh downe , and hate holds vp the head Troth barelie liues , and tretchrie thriues apace Deserts doth starue , and meanewell hides his face . O charitie help● Franknes is blinde , affection dims his sight Larges is lost , hardnes supplies his place Wrong runs so swift , it ouer-gallops right Goodnes limps downe , and halts in many a case Do well doth droupe , or walks with mu●fled face Vertue and vice , now wrastles for a fall And so the strong , will thrust the weake to wall . O charitie helpe . Stoutnes with strength , strikes flat the feeble force Downe is kept downe , and neuer like to rise Malice and might , rides both vpon one horse ( Sir Packolets nagge , that gallops through the skies ) Iudgement growes grosse , ore weening wanteth eies Will is a wagge , waste hath the wager woon For all the date , of our redresse is done . O charitie helpe . Loyaltie weeps , and flattrie laughes and smiles Goodwill is scornd , and puts vp many a taunt Pouertie is plagude , or ouermatcht with wiles Plainnes complaines , but pride bids him auaunt Crueltie the curre , with crie of hounds will chaunt But bandog bites , full sore before he barke And craft the carle , still iuggles in the darke . O charitie helpe . Friendship lookes pale , it hath an ague fit Fauour is faint , and lame it cannot go Finenes is false , and full of subtill wit Faith giues faire words , and breaketh promis so Constancie reeles , and staggers to and fro Charitie must needs , reforme these follies strange That by abuse , doth noble nature change . O charitie helpe . Dutie doth die , to driue on diuelish drifts Stubbornes striues , to wrangle for a strawe Cunning long liues , by cusnage and by shifts Disorder thriues , with neither rule nor laue People growes proud , without true feare or awe If suffrance see , these prancks and hold his peace Goodnes decaies , and badnes shall encrease . O charitie helpe . If charitie be , the foode or fruite of faith Where bloomes that tree , where doth those branches bud True charitie sure , as wisest people saith Is working still , and euer dooing good Loue helpes our health , as life maintaines the blood But where no helpe , nor succour we may finde There charitie , is almost out of minde . O charitie helpe . If through my faith , great mountaines I may moue And can raise vp , to life the dead from graue That withred faith , brings foorth no fruite of loue It gaines no grace , what euer hope I haue If charitie be , the thing which good men craue God graunt that I , and all that heares the same May sing that song , like Sidrack in the flame . O charitie helpe . My humble hart , hopes now but for dispatch Of life that wastes , away like candle blase The clocke will stricke , in haste I heare the watch That sounds the bell , whereon the people gase My forces faile , my wits are in a mase My corps consumes , my skin and bones doth shew The soule is glad , the bodie hence shall go . O charitie helpe . Truth waited long , on your sweete sacred raigne To catch some crums , that from your table fals I sowe in teares , and reaps but bitter paine That makes sicke soule , lie groning by the wals Where hands a crosse , for helpe to heauen cals So sucks vp sighes , and sorrow of the minde As boyling brest , blowes fast for aire and winde . O charitie helpe . My muse doth muse , how labour lost his time And seruice great , doth get so small regarde I neuer thriude , by prose nor pleasant ●ime Nor could in world , be any way prefard An open signe , my thankles hap is hard Yet numbers of , my verie name and race By prince in court , were cald to woorthie place . O charitie helpe . I am the Drone , that bees beats from the hiue The vglie Oule , that kites and crowes do hate The drawing oxe , that clounes do daily driue The haples hinde , that hath the hatefull fate ( That weares a●l sutes , and seasons out of date ) If destny so , alots men such hard chance They passe the pikes , that fortune will aduance . O charitie helpe . My passage is , like one that rides in post Through water , fire , and all the hazards heere And so draws home , a weary grisly ghost Whose losse of youth , bu●es loathsome age too deere Now coms acco●nt , of daies , of houres and yeere My debts are stald , as oft bare bankrouts be The graue paies all , and sets my bondage free . O charitie helpe . The wo of wars , and pride and pompe of peace The toile of world , and troubles here and there And churlish checks , of fortune I release Their heauie crosse , I can no longer beare In peeces small , my scribbled scrowles I teare So flinging verse , and bookes before your feet I craue some crownes , to bie my shrouding sheet . O charitie helpe . All hope is gone , of any earthly hap The axe is come , to giue the falling blow Downe flies the bowes , the tree hath lost his sap Vp to the clouds , like smoke the breath shall go A sillie puffe , of winde ends all this wo O grashous Queene , then some compassion take Before my soule , this combrous caue forsake . O charitie helpe . If nothing come , of seruice , sute and troth True man must trudge , and leaue his natiue soile Abroad the world , to see how fortune goth In any place , where faith is free from foyle Heere with vaine hope , my selfe and life I spoile First lost my youth , so time and all is gone Age sindes no friends , nor helpe of any one . O charitie helpe . Of charitie , a great discourse is made Vnto an Earle , I honor in this land It is not hid , nor sits in silent shade Would God it were , in your faire blessed hand There lies the notes , as thicke as is the sand And there I sing , three parts in one at lest And in sweete sound , true musicke is exprest . O charitie helpe , or else adue the pen For I must march , againe with marshall men . FINIS .

To the generall Readers . IF ought amisse , you finde good Reader heere , His fault it is , that sings ne sweete nor loud : When he caught cold , and voice could not be cleere , Because ech note , is cloked vnder cloud , He cra●d no helpe , nor stole from no mans song , One peece nor part , of musicke any waie : Ne sembreeffe , breefe , nor yet ne larke nor long , For he hath skill , in deskant some men saie , And on the base , can make three parts in one , And set new songs , when all the old are gone . Though some beleeue , but hardly that he makes , These things or that , which seemes far past his reach , Tush though old head , and hand with paulsie shakes , Let no ill will , plaine writers pen appeach : If you do loue , no wrong giue ech man right : Rob not the iust , of any praise well won , Way not mens worth , with waights in ballance light , For truth is truth , when all is saide and don : You may as well , say white and red is blacke , And Sun and Moone , are steele and marble stone : As say or thinke , behinde a writers backe ▪ He borrowed that , which he claimes as his owne : O giue men leaue , to father their owne childe : Let it be foule , or faire as babies are , A stubborne boye , a cracke-rope tame or wilde , Begot in haste , and brought vp poore and bare : How ere they be , blinde , lame , or shapt awrie , Vglie to sight , bigge , boulcho●s , lowe or ●ie , Those yoonglings all , the Dad●an not denie , Are his that sent , those babes abroad to nurse , ( Like orphants weake , that knowes not what to do ) With blessings great , and not with parents curse , That shortens life , and gets Gods anger to : Children were woont , to beare their fathers name , Not one durst say , in earnest iest or skorne , ( To hinder childe , of spotlesse birth and fame ) A lawfull sonne , was but a bastard borne . Both beast and bird , their yoong ones do defend , So shall my Muse , maintaine that I haue pend , Then bring Shores wife , in question now no more , I set hir foorth , in colours as she goes ,

Sir Rafe Bowser a worshipfull knight witnesseth where and when I penned that .

And as she went , like gallant lasse before , So other gyrls , as gaie and fresh as rose , With verse haue I , set foorth in sundrie sorts , As braue as she , what ere disdaine reports , That humor now , declines for age drawes on , The full tide is , of fine inuention gon : Ebbe followes floud , when vitall vaines waxe dead , Wit weares and wastes , as torch consumes with winde , When water turnes , drie growes a flowing head : In age ech thing , decaies by course of kinde : Yet whiles the oyle , in lampe may make a blaze , Or candell in , the socket shewes a light , On sparkling flame , the cleerest eies will gaze , And comfort finde , thereby in darkest night : I yeeld to time , that like a sithe cuts cleane , All that doth gr●w , in spring or fall of leafe , And wish in world , my treble were a meane , That I might sin● , to eares that are not deafe , A note should sinke , as deepe in iugging brest , As euer yet , ●n sea did ancker rest : Songs are but likt , as fancies giues them leaue , Both well and 〈◊〉 , as sounds of trumpets are , Though Syrens voice , the hearers doth deceaue , Mine hath no charme , but open plaine and bare , As I was borne , so speake I English still , To lose my paines , and win the worlds good will , No losse so much , as credit crackt with pen , Nor gaine so great , as loue of honest men . Fare you well .

The Author to his booke . GO now plaine booke , where thou maist welcom find , Walke throw the world , till frinds do thee embrace : Let foes alone , obay thy masters mind , For fear nor threat , hide not a fautlesse face . Win courts goodwill , the countries loue is gaind , With wise men stay , from froward wits beware : At plow and cart , plaine speech is not disdaind : Sit downe with those , that feeds on hungrie fare , For they haue time , to note what thou dost saie , Let gallants go , they will but giue a gibe : Or take thee vp , and fling thee straight awaie , Touch not smooth hands , that vse to take a bribe , They better like , full bags than busie bookes , Shun from the sight , of glorious peacocks proud : Their onlie pomp , stands all on statelie lookes , They glowm and skoull , as t weare a raynie cloud . Giue babling toongs , good leaue to taunt and talke , Their taste is gone , they oft take chese for chalke . Bid scornfull heads , let true-plain● lines alone , That harmles are , and came from lowlie hart : Passe not in haste , to people strange vnknowne , Least iudgment swift , do take on thee the start . And run beyond , thy reach full many a skore , Go slowlie foorth , with thanks come quickly 〈◊〉 : Bring no rebuke , for that nips near and sore , T were better far , abroad thou shouldst not ro●● . Though thou be blind , yet those that well can see , If thou offend , will find great fault with mee . Behaue thy selfe , as mildly as thou maist , L●ke messenger , that doth his arnd aright : Thy master must , affirme each thing thou saist . The darkest word , at length must come to light , Like pilgrim go , and passe throw perils all , Take well in worth , what hap doth thee befall . Returne no more , to me till newes thou bring , Of praise or thankes , or of some better thing : If none of these , this waiward world will yeeld , Trudge from fine towne , fli● to the open feild , Where thou must passe , through thickets full of thorns , Where pricking briers , and croked brambles grose : And neuer none , s●apt free from sc●●th or scornes , Or scratted hands , or tearing of his close . Where eluish ap●s , and marmsets mockes and mose , And thistles are , seen sooner than a rose . Yea thou shalt come , where nettles are good store , Whose angrie sting , will blisters raise apace , Slip from those weedes , and come near them no more : For fear vnwares , good words do get disgrace . The goodlie floures , of court thou needs not feare , For they are sweete , and meeke of nature throw , There wisedome will , with writers humor beare : If humbly stil , thou canst behaue thee now , Thy masters pen , hath purchast fauour there , Among the Dames , of faire Dianas traine , Where beautie shines , like siluer drops of raine . In sunnie day : O booke thou happy art If with those Nimphes , thou maist be entertaind , If any one , of them take in good part , A verse or word , thou hast a garland gaind , Of glorie great , for fame hir selfe must sound , Out of their voice , looke what they do pronounce : Like tennis ball , aloft it doth rebound , And yeelds great weight , but not by dram nor ounce , But heauie as , a massie pound of lead , They wey mens worth , with praises quicke or dead . Yea what they say , of Poets fond or wise , Of prose or verse , that ripe inuensho● shoes : As tw●re a lawe , the fame thereof shall rise , And through the world , like coin it currant goes . From hand to hand , and so doth passage take , Preasse thou to them , for they may mend my hap : If that of thee , some good account they make , And that in sport , they laie thee in their lap , Vntill they list , to read thee eurie line , Then at welhead , some water drawe I may : For fountaine springs , may run cleere claret win● , Whose pleasant sap , giues moisture eurie way . The nimble Nimphs , that with Diana dwell , Can quicklie turne , the cock and flowing spout : That thousands shall , bring buckets to the well And watch their times , till comfort commeth out . Now booke trudge hence , bestow thy labour right Set spurs to horse , that flies in aeir with wings Mount ore the hils , and rest ne day nor night Till thou do come , before great Queens and Kings Then flat on face , fall prostrate at their feet That may from graue , call vp thy masters spreet Keepe thou these rules , this course and compasse hold So may thy grace , conuert my lead to gold .

CHVRCHYARDES CHARITIE . WHen labring minde , and weary body both Is cloid with world , & hart wold shake off toile Before the ghost , to highest heauens goeth And death of life , shall make a wretched spoile ( And man must needs , A well disposed minde , cals many good things to memorie . forsake this soathsome soile ) He takes some care , to make his conshence cleere Of all he thinks , or may imagine heere . First lookes he vp , Good men haue many sweet imaginations . where soule desires to be Of life to come , to know what hope we haue And where we rest , in ioie from bondage free So soone as cold , dead bodie lies in graue Than ere man leaues , this cruell cumbrous caue In charitie , he waies this world aright As far as wades , wise iudgement , skill and sight . But finding world , Blinde world is fraught with fond desires . full fraught with fond desires ( A mightie masse , of matter therein lies ) That burns out time , and kindleth many fires Whereon foule flames , and smothring smoke doth rise , He lookes thereon , with heauie rufull eies , As though some zeale , might mooue a musing minde To pity plagues , that man must leaue behinde . The poore estate of people is to be pitied . Who doth not sigh , to see the poore opprest By rich mens reach , that wrests awry the right Who will not waile , the woe of troubled brest Or sore lament , the state of wronged wight When broad day brings , darke dealings vnto light Who will not rue , our wretched race on earth That keepes till death , no rule from day of birth . The wealth hardly won is easilie left . The goods we win , are woorse to keepe than get The wealth we lose , robs some of rest and sleepe Our daily gaine , will answere scarce our det We couet more , than wit can warely keepe We slip from hence , as rich as new shorne sheepe And that we leaue , in world that well was won Is soone consumde , and spent with riotous son . Who parts from world , would wish that were not so Graceles time runs on rowling wheeles . His charitie , commands him so to thinke But graceles time , on rowling wheeles doth go At whose abuse , our flyring world can winke Vice cares no whit , if vertue swim or sinke Ambishous mind , and malice meetes in one So that true loue , and charitie is gone . Christian loue lookes to euerie thing . Loue bids men looke , to all things vnder Sun Beast fish , and foule , and all we see with eie But charitie , a greater course doth run Because it doth , in quiet conscience lie She lookes ech where , as she had wings to flie And houer ore , our doings on this mould That bridle takes , and will not be contrould . O then to loue , and charitie I pas Whose zeale is great , Zeale is the glas that shewes the spots of face . and charge is nothing small That cleerely sees , ( as in a christall glas ) The spots of face , and inward cankers all And can in haste , vnto remembrance call Old farn yeers past , and present things of late , Whereof a world , of wits may well debate . Who can hold toong , Abuse runs ouer the brim . to see bad worlds abuce Run ore the brim , where vertue neuer floes As hauocke had , hald vp the water sluce Where out at large , great skuls of fishes goes Poore pashence must , be pleasd with painted shoes Alms deeds are dead , no pitty now is last For all the world , is set on sleight and craft . If pouertie , be pincht with plague or sore He starues for food , adue the man is dead The sound we seeke , the sicke we do abore Full paunch eats all , Full paunch eats vp all . the hungrie is not fed For greedy guts , keeps needy mouth from bred True charitie , and good deuoshon old By frost and snow , are almost kild with cold . Would God good works , with faithfull honest deeds Reformd this vice , that spreds too far I feare And faire sweete flowrs , Faire word● make fooles faine . were planted for those weeds That doth with fraud , infect sweet soyles ech where Fine words doth but , betraie the simple eare As fowlers pipe ; the harmles bird disseaues That lights on lyme , amid greene birchen leaues . If meere deceit , were banisht from our viewe Deceit deceaues militous of men . False dealing then , would blush to shew his face If wisdome did , disdaine vaine follies newe Old troth in world , would claime his woonted place But cunning wits , doth finenes so embrace That plainnes walkes , like pilgrim to and fro In wandring wise , and knowes not where to go . Wealths thirst drinks riuers dry . Wealth hath desire , to drinke great riuers drie His scalding thirst , cannot be quenched well Want pines awaie , and comfortles doth lie And water tasts , like Tantalus in hell The needy sort , in dolour daily dwell The hautie head , thinks skorne to turne his face And rue the state , of naked wretches case . The fields and lanes , are full of sicke and lame , Who beg and craue , as loud as voice can crie A sauing world spares nothing to the poore . But sauing world , is grown so far from frame No great remorse , remains in passers by Hardnes holds backe , both bag and bounties eie So that no ruth , regard nor pittie comes From sparing hands , and graceles griping thombs . Our prisons all , are pestred with poore soules Whose yelling noise , a tyrants hart may mooue At grates they stand , and looke through peeping holes Prisoners perish for want of comfort . To purchase alms , and trie good peoples loue But penurie , doth so their pashence prooue , With emptie wombe , and hungrie meatles mawe They lay them downe , on boords or wads of strawe . The silly folke , Many silly soules goes a hungrie to bed . in towne or cottage rude With belly full , do seldome go to bed And lookes as leane , as haukes that ill are mude Which often be , with crowes or carraine fed How should men giue , when charitie is dead For money , meat , and clothing now is bard From those that need , the world is waxt so hard . How can full purse , Full purse follows many pleasures . supplie the poore mans went When trull at home , from sheepe lookes for a fleece And master must , be sometimes all a flant And prettie pus , my deere must haue a peece Whose beautie staines , the faire Helen of Greece These things are large , and lo●g to looke vpon By which cold cause , warme charitie is gon . More reasons rise , to make men hold and keepe The crums they catch , from Fortunes table still For purchesars , The purchesars plucks all from the poore . do walke when plow men sleepe Their sacks of corne , is seldome from the mill They take no rest , till thrift bare budget fill Then locke they vp , in chest their golden bags When beggers trudge , and iet about in rags . Cold parts men plaie , Craftie 〈◊〉 can play bopeep . much like old plain bopeepe Or counterfait , in dock out-nettle still And for their game , there is such hold and keepe That nothing can , escape their reaching skill Much haue yee won , when got is their good will T is lost againe , for one small graine of gold Their charitie , is growne so extreme cold . Cunning raiseth the price of euery thing . They raise the price , of euery thing is bought On tenter hookes , their ware is stretched out Seekes all the waies , for wealth that may be sought As for the winde , a ship is swaid about And at a trice , they turne the water spout So from our purse , both pence and pounds they draw By hooke or crooke , by wrest or reach of law . Vittles made deere seldome comes downe againe . The rate of things , rackt vp doth fall no more Colde conshence takes , all-fish that coms to net To make corne deere , they hoord much graine in store So they may win , some care not how they get For eu'ry bird , they do such lime-twigs set That no bird scapes , if it be slidge to flie Except foresight , the suddaine danger spie . No rain nor curb , nor bridle holds them in No lawe nor rule , nor order will they keepe Sets all abroch , to feede and nourish sin Wicked wolues deuoures the lambs . And plaies the wolues , with lambs when yonglings sleep Makes old folks whine , and babes in cradle weepe And makes the rate , of eu'ry thing so scant That some cries out , that neuer thought of want . A diuelish dearth destroies thousands . A diuelish dearth , is come from darke hell gate To kill cold harts , as hands can crush a crab That blow fals not , vpon the proud mans pate But giues the meeke , and mildest minde the stab Now tell I all , the secrets like a blab As good to shew , a sore whiles wound is greene As let men starue , before the greefe be seene . The loue of wealth , The loue of wealth forgets all goodnes . forgets both God and man And who growes rich , sets little by renowne To catch and hold , the world doth what it can With endles care , in court , in field and towne Craft keepeth vp , plaine honestie fals downe Charitie is dead , and goodnes growes full sicke Wisedome doth drowp , and follie is too quicke . Wealth like a worme , eats vp sweete kernels all As cankers rust , runs into iron and steele Hard closed hands , that will let nothing fall Wants eares to heare , Hard hands will part from nothing . yet fingers hath to feele Well all is right , when world runs like a wheele Round as a top , that scourging can abide Swims vp and downe , and followes time and tide . On present time and muck mans mind is bent Foolish world thinks but our present time . On world to come , no care nor eie they cast What coms with ease , is often rashlie spent And what doth hap , in hands we hold full fast As though our pomp , and pride should alwaies last Yea thinking all , is ours that we can scrape And still for more , do greedie gluttons gape . The many yeers , Many yeers and maners alters the kinde of man . and winters past and gone Hath changde the kind , of grace and goodnes quite Our bodies beares , in flesh a hart of stone That ioined is , with faintie liuer white Which neuer breeds , in breast one good delite Our noughtie minds , may be the cause of this That hath transformd , all Adams babes amisse . A golden age is turnd to copper and brasse . The golden age , of our forefathers wise , Is copper now , or worse than any brasse , We quickly can , clap on a new found gife And weare a maske , seeme shadow in a glasse But bring no worke , nor great good thing to passe Make shew of much , as art sets tristes forth That proues a puffe , in substance little worth . Words is the worst ware that euer was sold. Words are the ware , that each man sets to sale With phrases fine , bedeckt to blinde poore sight Faire promise first , steps forth and tels a tale Of bad deuice , that weies in ballance light For at your need , performance taketh flight And leaues in lake , the foole that words hath won Who paies great paines , for shadowes in the sun . Wealth weighs downe euery thing . Wit did prefer , good people well of yore Welth now with weights , doth wey the ballance down Words and fine talke , leads world the dance before But neither wealth , nor words wins true renown For when the trumpe , doth giue vncertaine sown Men will not then , prepare them for the fight But rather seeke , to saue themselues by flight . Words are waues tossed with wind . Words are the waues , that welters on the seas And works a froth , in colour white as snoe Makes thousands sicke , and breedes a cold disease To those that with , such swelling surges goe Inconstant words , with tide will ebbe and floe But fruitfull deeds , stands firme and fast as rocke That bides the brunt , of eurie blast and shocke Fine Macheuill , Marcheuill is now made an English man . is now from Florence flown To England where , his welcome is too great , His busie books , Want of charitie hath made me loose my pattent . are heere so red and known That charitie , thereby hath lost her heat Poore prisners doe , in Ludgate die for meat Who doth for det , in danger long remaine Must fall down flat , and seldom rise againe . Wit takes his toll , The milner will be sure of his toule . as milner at the mill Powlseakes the bags , of meale as he doth please Thrusts thousands backe , till tricksie tanker fill Like prentise fine , that faine would take some ease In deed there is , no fishing to the seas But what is caught , in conshence should be sold In market place , that men might credit hold . No charitie , A fine fisher would catch all himselfe . is found when fisher feeds On all himselfe , and giues his fellowes none Alas poore soules , we angle in the reeds And catch a frog , when all the fish is gone Bullhead and loch , lies vnder little stone But stones and sticks , will breake our nets I dout Before we bring , a dish of gudgins out . The great good turnes , Good turnes are turnd to faire holy water . in court that thousands felt Is turnd to cleer , faire holie water there The scraps are small , that hungrie hands haue delt Spoile cannot spare , the paring of a pea●e For snatch crust robs , almes baskets eury where The poore so starues , or knowes not what to do And so I feare , shall sillie suters to . The father will scarse speake for his sonne . The father scarse , will speake for his owne son World waxeth mute , when men should do some good The streame is stopt , where water ought to run We cast our nets , where fish creepes in the mud And clime those trees , where bowes will neuer bud We take great paine , yet no good fruit enioies For words are wind , and fils our eares with noies . The soldier consumes himselfe with griefe . The soldier sits , and sighes to shake off greefe Whose wounds in war , of right claimes great reward Waits hard at heele , but findeth small releefe Who least deserues , is alwaies most prefard Who brags and boasts , blind world doth best regard But some that lost , their blood in countries right May kisse the post , and bid vs all good night . What charitie , is that iudge you that can Who sees these things , so far past all redresse A lip wise world cares little for a man . When lip-wise world , sets little by a man What may fall out , of that a foole may gesse Each one shall haue , his lot yea more or lesse But charitie , and fortune differ far Between them two , we find a mortall war . The one helps all , and loues a number still Charitie and fortune differ far . The other hurts , or else prefers a few And wise men find , no hold in hir good will For she is cald , a most inconstant shrew That with the sun , will waste away like dew A sommer flowre , that withers in the frost Coms softly on , and rides away in post . As blind of sight , as euer Cupid was For she lookes not , on vertue any way Nor wisdoms worth , Fortune fauors many an asse . but fauors many an asse For his smooth face , and peacocks feathers gay But charitie is , the only staffe and stay To all estates , for where she stoutly stands She sets all free , and breaketh bondage bands . Forgiues great faults , and suffers many a wrong She giues a badge , Charitie forgiues and forgets iniuries . that eury christian weares And in all worlds , hir liurey lasteth long It garded is , all round about with teares And she hir selfe , a branch of oliue beares In signe of peace , and mercie mixt with grace That pitie takes , of eurie rufull case . This charitie giues , as much as men may craue And soone forgets , Charitie hath no end of hir bountie . the bountie she bestowes Takes great delight , the life of man to saue By vertue of , good turnes that from hir floes Whose is sent like , the white and sweet red rose For all hir gifts , and graces beares such flowres That makes poore men , to laugh when fortune lowres . On charitie , Charitie giues few words but doth many good deeds . the hungrie dailie feeds As lambs and sheepe , in fruitfull pasture liue Shee giues few words , where shee bestoes good deeds The more we neede , the sooner will shee giue As corne from chaffe , is si●ted through the siue So shee tries out , from dust and drosse the gold As wisdome doth , the worth of men vnfold . Charitie is the 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 shall be●●sled . This charitie , is first that fauour findes And shall be last , that wins our worlds good will Begot by grace , and nu●st in noble mindes That staies and stands , vpon their honor still T is seen far off , as torch is on an hill Felt near at hand , and found out by the light Which in darke daies , doth glad ech good mans sight . When fortunes wrath , hath wounded many a wight She brings a boxe , of balm to heale ech sore That makes sad mind , and heauie hart so light It neuer thinks , on wretched chance no more Charitie conquers euery where like a victor . If charitie , like victor goes before Come after hir , proud world with all thy braues Like conqueror , she triumphs on hir slaues . But well awaie , and woe God wo● the while True charitie , is faintly felt or found Shee is of late , halfe-driuen in exile Bad life would driue charitie in exile . Because bad life , let s crueltie abound The world is full , of hollow harts vnsound And mercie meets , with ruth scarce once a yeere For rigors rage , doth show such churlish cheere . Men go transformed now a da●s . Men walke abroad , transformd in sundry shapes More monster like , than babes of Adams brood Fearfull to sight , like vglie owls and apes That hath of kind , no ciuill humane mood Tigers in proofe , nurst vp with woluish food For sillie lambs , that doth no butcher fear They do deuour , and in small peeces tear . Greedy as guls , Some people are as greedy as guls . and gapes for garbedge still , Rauening like woolues , that murthers sheepe in folde Suttle as foxe , that neuer hath his fill Hedstrong and proud , and will not be controld Currish as kite , ne gentle yoong nor old Such cruell tricks , doth alter so mans minde That long they liue , by craft and dies vnkind . Quarrels encrease , Quarrels breeds mischiefe and bloudshed . and combats haue no end Till bloud be shed , and life and land be lost Some thinks the bow , were better breake than bend On that consait , stands mightie manhood most But charitie , rides then away in post And leaues in lash , behinde hir in some part A heape of harmes , and many a heauie hart . Lust liues by spoyle , Lust is a theefe and robs vs of life . like theefe that robs true men Desires to eate , the hen and chickens all Rauine and rage , prouls fast for profite then So gets some cheate , though it be near so small But lust is like , an image on a wall Strike out the cole , that is but blacke of hue Faire white and cleane , appeers blurd wall to you . Ore weening runs , beyond the course of wit Presumpshon then , doth set best foote before And boldnes knowes , not where to stand nor sit His loftie lookes , Pride and presumption is bold as bl●nde baya●d . prouokes his pride so sore But when threed-bare , his bad spun cloth is wore The world but laughs , to see bald bayard blinde With painted robes , patch vp a stately minde . In cloud vnseene , new fanglenes would walke Newfanglenes is easily found out . But he is spide , by old deepe serching sight Fine filed toongs , like parrets prate and talke And wonder makes , of trifling matters light This glorious crew , triumphes in moone shine night But when cleere day , such idols doth disclose World will point out , where eurie shadow goes . Wilful heads hates good counsell . Wilde wilfull heads , that all sound counsell hates A careles course , of borrowed life doth lead Whose retchles race , still argues and debates They soone forget , good lessons that they read But when the foot , awrie the shue doth tread Downe goes the heele , yea seam the sole and all And so vnwares , a man in mire may fall . Ill custome Breedes abuse . And stumbling oft , makes some to snapper still Vse mastrie breedes , and custome pleads a law Let bridle goe , the horse will haue his will Much water scarse , will quench hot fire in straw A stubborne childe , that still doth backward draw Must needes be whipt , to make him feare the rod So we are plagud , when we forget our God . Two plagues past th●eatens a third . Three sundrie plagues , the wrath of God doth show The first is past , the second you may see The third ye wot , the world too well doth know For that cuts downe , corne , grasse , and highest tree The angrie cloudes will neuer calmie bee Till better life , seaise all our showres of raine And Gods great grace , brings sommer home againe Shame followes pride , Shame followes pride , and deart● nipped sore . and death comes after sin Then famine k●ls , vp thousands where it flies They will take heed , that hath well scourged bin And fall to mend , their liues if they be wise But in our world , such new found fashons rise All frames not well , looke into ech mans waies Small charitie , is seen in these bad daies . When charitie , Proud painted posts are rotte● in the middle . proud painted posts plucks downe To God and prince , great honor shall arise When plainnes thriues , in court and ciuill towne Old troth will bid , farewell our newfound gise Goodnes will come , and so aduance the wise Dunses and dolts , shall stand beneath the bar And pride shall blush , that doth presume too far . The least of most , makes most of his bad stuffe So leers and looks , as frighted were his wits Is neuer well , Pride alubberly lout , lookes like a monarke . till pride be in his ruffe Than monarke like , on loftie seat he sits ( Whose scornfull hart , is full of froward fits ) But speaks no word , for feare that bayard blinde Should plunge before , and yearke at him behinde . The woorst with best , The woorst with h●e hart , compares with the best . compares and striues for place As gold and glas , in woorth weare all alike Beares out his brags , with scowling brazen face That cannot blush , no more than can blacke tike He frowns so sore , he lookes as he would strike The crabbish ●arle , so curst and cumbrous is Then when he speakes , in schoole the schollers hisse . A surly sire swels like a a toad . The surly sire , sits swelling like a toad That venom casts , on goodly herbs and floures Not pleased well , in house nor yet abroad Nor seemes to haue , ne quiet daies nor houres When cheerefull folke , doth smile this churle he loures A swarme of such , checkmates a man may see If stagers come , where fresh fine fellowes bee . A stately stalke thinks none like himselfe . The stately stalks , that will ne stoup nor bend Will speake no word , till first yee them salute Holds head aloft , but downe no looke will lend Faire blossomd trees , that brings foorth no good fruit Nay sickles sharpe , that reaps vp many a sute Their haruest hath , cut downe the corne so cleane They leaue in field , the poore no graine to gleane . A craftie crue are wilier than the foxe . The craftie crue , more wily than old Foxe Runs flocking on , as sheepe to fold doth flie Takes what they may , and giues but scornes & mocks They want no wiles , within the winde to lie Drains riuers vp , and drinks great fountaines drie At first rebound , strikes backe the tennis ball ( From those that plaies ) as though they would haue al. Cunning lads are ●s quicke a● a ●ee . The cunning lads , that creepes through auger holes As quicke as Bee , seekes honie eury where Feeds body fat , but cares not for their soles Their snatching shewes , what greedy minds they beare Who lends the poore , ne louing looke nor eare Brings emptie paunch , to mouth vp all alone Skornes and disdaine , to fling a dog a bone . Preferments were , Preferments are not got with shooting toe short . the marks whereat we shot But past our aime ; and reach those marks do stand For ere we draw , the bow the game is got Or else the string , doth breake within our hand Our plaine prick-shafts , were wont to cleaue a wand But now so blunt , and flat the heads are worne When archer shoots , leud world laughs him to scorne . They hit the white , They hit the white that haue good hap . that neuer shot before No marke men sure , nay bunglars in their kind A sort of swads , that scarce can shoot twelue score Nor hath no skill , to know where blowes the winde Lo thus you see , that fortune is but blinde To giue them hap , whose knowledge is so bace They scarce deserue , a simple pedlars place . Ech man prefers , Ech man prefers his serua●ts and friends . his friends and seruants both The Queenes poore men , findes few to help their hap I praie you who , doth speake for plaine Tom-troth Which plies them all , with curchie , knee and cap His old crab tree , is burnd with thunder clap Blacke are the bowes , that once grew greene and gai● The rune of time , doth threaten his decaie . How should men liue , that haue no chinks to spend Steele now lacks strength , to strike out fire from flint Hold fast the gnoff , will neither giue nor lend Hope-well can get , Hope well can get no money from the mint . no money from the mint All things we haue , are set now at a stint Nip-crust the carle , hath crept so neere the crums That nothing scapes , from hungrie hucksters thumbs . Serue long spends much and gets little . Serue long waite well , spend much and little get May be compard , to walking horse for nought Brings many men , in danger and in det For wit and time , thereby is deerlie bought As when a drudge , all daie hath trulie wrought And goes to bed , vnpleasd or paid aright He thinks daies toile , brings beggrie home at night . Who makes haste to amend any misse . I pray you who , makes haste to mend this misse The man in the moone , as soone as any one By which cold signe , true loue and charities Growne now more cold , than ice or marble stone As dogs do striue , and snarre about a bone So for good turnes , the people throng and thrust So thicke God wot , we know not who to trust . New natures alters good old conditions . These natures new , doth argue plagues most strange To come if now , No famine heere were had For as we do , our old good maners change So world I feare , hencefoorth will be too bad When sober men , growes sauage wilde and mad Looke for small rule , and order heere belowe Our Iudgement daie , thereby drawes neere I trowe . Not one doth right , search and you shall see . Not one doth right , with weights when we are waid All are as light , in ballance as a flie For out of frame . are all when all is said Both they below , and those that would sit hie But chieflie such , as vse to sell and bie All sciences , yea all of eury art Are stept on stage , and coms to play their part . Search eury art , Artificers and all are light in the ballance . artificers and all In charitie , behold them as they are And you shall see , their conshence is so small That nere a one , for charitie doth care Do neither church , queer , court , nor country spare And tell me plaine , what charitie is there God grant these daies , true loue be any where . Can plagues cease then , Plagues will not cease till bad life be reformed whan eury liuing wight His neighbour plagues , as far as powre may stretch In ballance iust , not one man waies aright All vse desait , and ly on gard and watch He liues not now , that can not scrat and snatch Men are no saints , world is a world to th end So folly doth , his wilfull faults defend . The man of Ind , can neuer change his skin Nor yet the cat , of mountaine change hir hue So those wilde buds , Wild buds brings foorth no good fruit . that euer bad haue bin Can neuer beare , good fruit nor blossome nue A bitter taste , will neuer go from rue A wicked life , can shew no vertous deed No more than may , a floure spring from a weed . What keepes good course , Neither world not weather keeps good course . the weather alters oft The heauens seeme , to shew some sodaine change The winds waxe shrill , and loud they blow aloft Familiar friends , for trifles gro full strange Wit waxeth wilde , whose wont was not to range So out of tune , ech thing is wrested now Because abuse , corrupts good nature throw . If sommer once , in twentie yeers growes hot ( Whose warmth reuiues , both fruit & floures ech where ) Cold winters blast , bites near the bones ye wot Cold pleaseth few , for cold ech one doth feare Why world growes cold , and cold is hard to beare Neither world nor weather keeps good course . Cold weather makes , warme conshence cold I troe So charitie , and goodnes cold doth growe . Cold weather or world pleaseth none . Cold is the aire , the open field and towne Then court must needs , wax colder than it was It seems wise world , cares not for vaine renowne As world doth come , a Gods name let it passe Though charitie , growe thrise as cold as glasse A warmer time , in better tune may bring This hard cold age , when comes a sommer spring . Cold aire kils sometime sound and sicke . Cold snow is not , so good as luke warme milke Hot sun doth melt , cold frost and cakes of ice Thicke frise surmounts , a thin cloke linde with silke Furde gowne exceeds , cold cloth of preshous price Warme loue lasts long , cold fauour growes full nice With warme good will , we win great wordlie good The fire burns best , where most ye clap on wood . Cold loue quicklie takes leaue . Both flame and fire , goes out in weather cold Where neither coles , nor wood mantaines the heat And heat is that , contents both yoong and old For in the same , our sweete delight is great Most men feeds best , with good warme drinke or meat Cold breeds worst blod , and hardlie doth digest Bicause cold things , lies belching long in brest . Cold fortune kils , Cold fortune kils any man liuing . the strongest man that liues Cold countnance cuts , the throte ere we be ware Cold poison ●onke , a quicke dispatch it giues Cold cra●●s dries vp , the sences where they are Cold lims waxe lame , and breeds diseases rare Thus cold mars all , then warmth God send vs now That eurie part , of man feele comfort throw . Cold food is faint , Cold foode is comfortles and hard to digest . vnto weake stomacks still Warme broths keeps health , in perfect sound estate Warme daies we wish , cold bitter aire is ill Cold blasts be nought , sharpe blustring storms we hate Sweetly sun shines , in world earlie or late Cold quicklie caught , goes seldome soone away And long cold nights , kils some before the day . Cold drie hard fro●● , makes thousands seeke for fire Warme meate giues spreet , to either sicke or sound Cold hungrie baites , Cold hungrie baites may kill a horse . makes many a horse to tire Warme clouts and clothes , doth comfort eurie wound No fruit thriues well , where cold doth much abound The warmth doth ioy , both spring and fall of leafe Makes dead things quicke , delights both dum & deafe Yea blind and lame , and all that life doth beare Are glad of heate , then cold is out of grace Cold words God wot , Cold words makes a man desperate . when meaning scarce is there Kils many a man , in court or any place O wold to God , warme deeds did show his face That charitie , hir whole effect may show On those that needs , which knows not where to goe A colder season in all sorts was neuer seene . A colder time , in world was neuer seene The skies do lowre , the sun and moone waxe dim Sommer scarce knowne , but that the leaues are greene The winters waste , driues water ore the brim Vpon the land , great flotes of wood may swim Nature thinks scorne , to do hir dutie right Because we haue , displeasde the Lord of light . Cold words and workes makes many a heauy hart . Cold works , cold words , cold world and al things cold Showes death drawes neer , and then a deep cold graue Such hard cold hap , may make a yoong man old Or old gray beard , become a gall●e slaue Well let them loose , that can ne● in nor saue The state of man , on strange hap hazard lies As one fals downe , so doth another rise . If charitie , would once bespread hirraies As Phoebus showes , abroad his shining beames Cold winter may bring some sommer daies . Or winter cold , would bring some sommer daies And rid vs soone , from all these great extreames Then shee dies not , but haplie sleeps and dreames Now waken hir , that haue most powre to speake I haue tane cold , and so my voice growes weake . You whose cleer speech , doth loud as trumpet sound And may command , the world , the skies and stars And rules at beck , the massie earth so round Sets orders downe , and can make peace and wars And hath the force , to breake big iron bars Warme loue 〈◊〉 awaken charitie againe . Call charitie , for loue once home againe That shee may heare , hir people poore complaine . My breath but bores , The author● breath is to cold 〈◊〉 do any good . a hole within the aire My date neer don , cals for a shrouding sheet My darke dim daies , lookes for no weather faire Mine eies can scarce , look to my stumbling feet My wounted muse , forsakes my drowping spreet My books and scroules , and all that I haue wrot Hides now their heads , as I were cleane forgot . When aged yeers , Aged yeers showes death 〈◊〉 ●t hand . showes death amid my face My words are of , small credit in this plite My hap and hope , is in a better place Wherefore of world , I plainly speake and write And ere I goe , discharge my conshence quite To win the wise , and loose the fonder sort That vnto quicke , nor dead yeelds good report . The wise well won , Labor is well ●● stowed when wise men are 〈◊〉 . waies ech thing as it ought Mistakes no terme , nor sentence wrests awrie The fond will read , awhile but cares for nought Yet casts on ech , mans works a frowning eie This neither treats , of matters lowe not hie But finds a meane , that ech good meaning might In all true meanes , take charitie aright . FINIS .

A PRAISE OF POETRIE .

Imprinted at London , by Ar. Hatfield , for William Holme .

1595.

A praise of Poetrie , some notes therof drawen out of the Apologie , the noble minded Knight , sir Phillip Sidney wrate . WHen world was at the very woorst And vice did much abound And for offence the earth was curst Yet charitie was found . Among the wise and woorthie sort Who euer had good chance with treble fame , by their report True vertue did aduance . The Poets and Philosophers Stept first on stately stage And plaid their parts with hazards great In euery world and age . In eury age while wits of men Could iudge the good from bad Who gat the gift of toong or pen Of world great honor had . Good Poets were in hie esteeme , When lea●ning grew in price Their vertue and their verse did seeme A great rebuke to vice . With blunt base people of small sence They fall now in disdaine But Sydneyes booke in their defence Doth raise them vp againe . And sets them next Diuines in ranke As members meete and fit To strike the worlds blinde boldnes blanke And whet the bluntest wit . Heere followes Histories good store That much thereof shall tell If paines may purchase thanks therefore My hope is answerd well . Amphyon and Orpheus Poets and excellent musitions . AMphyons gift and grace was great In Thebes old stories saie And beasts and birds would leaue their meat● To heare Orpheus plaie . Liuius , Andronicus , and Ennius . In Rome were three of peereles fame That florisht in their daies Which three did beare the onely name Of knowledge , skill and praise . Dant , Bocace , and Petrarke . In Italy of yore did dwell Three men of spechall spreete Whose gallant stiles did sure excell Their verses were so sweete . Mar●ot , Ronsa●t , and d● Ba●tas . In France three more of fame we finde Whose bookes do well declare They beautifide their starely minde With inward vertues rare . Go●re , Chaufer , 〈◊〉 the noble earle of S●●●●e . In England liued three great men Did Poetrie aduance And all they with the gift of pen Gaue glorius world a glance . In Scotland finde we other twaine Dauy Lindzey and Buckananus . Were writers of good woorth Whose studies through their Poets vaine Brought many verses foorth . In Ireland to this present time They honor and make much of their ●imers . Where learning is not mich With Poetrie in verse or rime Their language they inrich . In Wales the very remnant yet In Wales they call their rimers Bardes . Of Brittaine bloud and race They honor men of speshall wit And giues a Poet grace . Albinus long that rained heere Albinus loued poetrie much . Made verses in his youth And in his age as doth appeere With verse auancst the truth . Among the sauage Indians still The rude Indians make much of their rimers . ( Who knowes no ciuill thing ) They honor writers of some skill Their parents liues to sing . Among the anshent noble Danes The Danes and Saxons had many poets among them . And Saxsons long ago We read of many Poets names Whose woorthy wits did flo . The graue wise learned men of Greece In Greece their best philosophers at the first became poets . Durst neuer shew their art Till those Philosophers presumd To plaie the Poets part . Some sang in verse , their naturall Thales , Empedocles , and Parmenides . Philosophie we finde And in sweete songs heroicall Exprest their secret minde . Pithagoras and Phosillides . So morall counsels vttred were In that same selfe sweete sort Thus Poets flourisht eury where As stories makes report . Torteus . And marshall matters in those daies Were song and set aloft So some the art of warre did raise Vnto the skies full oft . Sibillas prophesies in verse Were alwaies vttred well The oracels of Delphos to In verse would woonders tell . Solon that wrate the fable of the Atlantick Iland . In pollicies wise Solon plaid The Poet sundrie waies Good things were better soong than said Which gaind immortall praise . Plato a diuine philosopher did stoup to poetrie . Plato tooke Solons works in hand And plaid the Poet right And set that Atlantike Iland Full plaine before our sight . Herodotus . The Booke of Herodotus bore A famous title fine ( Yea such as none did giue before ) Of all the muses nine . Dominician was a Poet rare Dominician Vaspasians sonne , as Plinie saith was an excellent poet . And did therein excell So many princes now there are That loueth Poetrie well . Three conquerours of mightie powre Alexander , Caesar and Scipio . Gaue Poets such a grace That they would neuer frowne not lowre On them in any case . As Plutarke saith , Alexander Phoreus wept at a tragedy . a tyrant wept A tragedie to heare Who sawe his murthring minde thereby As in a glas full cleere . Amid a great reuolt in Rome Menenus Agrippa a philosopher made peace among the people in an vprore . A woorthie Poet stood And told of bodie and the minde A tale that did much good . Two Poets turnd a tyrants hart Simonides and Pyndarius made Hiero a iust king . From rigour vnto ruth And wrought him with their wits and art To fauour right and truth . Nathan did faine a tale indeed Nathan spake of a lambe vngraciously taken from his bosome . To Dauid when he fell Whereon the king tooke such great heed He saw his follie well . In Dauids Psalms true miter floes Dauid and Salomon deuine poets . ( And songs of Sallomon ) Where great delite and pleasure groes Are woorthie looking on . Platoes dialog called Ion. A dialogue that Plato made Giues Poets great renowne Brings ech rare wit to sun from shade To weare the laurell crowne . Lelius a Romane & Socrates both were poets . True stories old with new delite Shall fill your harts and ●ares For they of Poets praises write Their books good witnes beares . Iames the first that was king of Scotland , and K. Iames the sixt now raigning , great poets . If aunshent authors and great kings No credit gets herein Darke-sight sees not no stately things That doth great glory win . The Greeke Socrates put Aesops fables into verse , and Aristotle wrate the art of poetrie . Plucke vp cleere iudgement from the pit Of poore espreet and sence And wipe the slime from slubbred wit And looke on this defence . Emperors , kings , captains , and Senators were poets , and favoured the art . That Sydney makes , a matchles worke A matter fresh and new That did long while in silence lurke And seldome came to view . Adrian and Sophocles great poets . He cals them Poets that embrace True vertue in hir kinde And do not run with rimes at bace With wanton blotted minde . ●f our 〈◊〉 me , the pa●●● poetry , Robert ●ng of Cic●ll and 〈◊〉 great Frances ●ng of France . All idle verse he counts but vaine Like cracks of thorns in fire Or summer showrs of sleete or raine That turns drie dust to mire . These rurall rymes are but the scum And froth that flies from seas Cardinall Berabus and Bibiena . Or doth from some sharpe humor come That breeds a new disease . In braine that beats about the skull Famous teachers and preachers , Beza and Melancton . And so brings foorth a toye ( When musse or moone is at the full ) Of paines or pleasing ioye . Like long wingd hauke , Learned philosophers Fracastorius and Scaliger . doth Poet fore Ore mountaine or hie trees And loud as cannon can he rore At ech vice that he sees . His scope as hie as reasons reach Great and good orators Pontanus and Muretus . May clime in order due Not to giue counsell nor to teach But to write fancies new . Of this or that as matter moones And beyond all these , the hospitall of France being builded on vertue , gaue poets a singular commendation . A well disposed minde That vice doth hate and vertue loues And he good cause doth finde . So ruling pen as duties bounds Be kept in eury part For when the Poet trumpet sounds It must be done by art . As though a sweete consort should plaie Alexander kept the bookes of Homer in 〈◊〉 his Iewel casket . On instruments most fine And shew their musicke eury waie With daintie notes diuine . Menander the comicke poet being sent for by embassadors of Macedonia and Aegipt preferred the conscience of learning before kinglie fortunes . Ech string in tune as concord were The guide of all the glee Whose harmonie must please the eare With musicke franke and free . The Poets Lyra must be strung With wire of siluer sound That all his verses may be sung With maidens in a round . Augustus Caesar wrate familiar epistles vnto Horace , which Horace in his life was aduanced to the tribuneship of soldiers , and when he died he left Augustus Caesar his heire . So chaste and harmles should they be As words from preachers voice With spiced speech in ech degree Wherein good men reioice . Not farsed full of sollies light That beares ne poies nor weight But flying cleere in aire like flight Whose force mounts vp an height . And seems to pearce the cloudie skies Such poets Sidney likes Whose gentle wind makes dust arise As hie as morice pikes . Virgill entring the colledge of poets in Rome , the rest of the poets there did more reuerence to him than to the emperor , and when he came into the senate the senators likewise did so . That lifts aloft the soldiers hart Who doth aduance the same And bends his bodie in ech part Thereby to purchase fame . The sword and lance of marshall men Their Lions courage showes The poets with their wit and pen Tels where their furie flowes . They both are knowne as soone as seene As things of great import The one may verie far ore weene The other in some sort . Stands on his honor sundrie waies And offreth life therefore The poet seekes no more but praise As poets did of yore . Whose words strooke dead the stoutest groomes Dauid sung the Liricke verses to his harp and those ebrue songs consisted of divers feet and vnequall numbers , somtime in Iambikes running other while . That euer were in place And sweeped cleane like new made broomes . The foulest cause or case . As water washeth ech thing white And sope might scoure with all The canker of foule worlds delite ( More sharpe than bitter gall . ) So poets with plaine terms makes cleane The soulest conshence liues And by good words from vice doth weane ( Through councell that it giues . ) The childest wit and churlisht mind Insaphicks swelling again in halfe a foote amiably halting . Lo then how poets may Both alter maners and bad kind To frame a better way . Of heauens and the highest throne Salomon in the gardens of Engadda framed songs to his harpe which then was a heauenly musicke . Where God himselfe doth sit Good poets still should treat alone To showe ●heir flowing wit . Ieremie wrate his funerall lamentations in saphycks long before Simonides the Greeke poet . As by their muse they caried were Beyond our sight or vew Into a fine and purer aire Or speshall climat new . Where all things are as cleane as gold From furnace to the stamp So poets should this world behold And shine as cleer as lamp . Isaias wrate sacred Odes & holie verses , and for remembring the mysteries of god therein , a tyrant king caused him to be sawed a sunder . That light doth giue to eury eie Which doth in darknes dwell And glorie show of heauens hie To damned spreets of hell . Which darknes in a dungeon keeps From sight of vertues lore Where ignorance in slumber sleeps Like dunse for euermore . The song of Sydrack and his fellowes in the hot flame was in verse . Sir Philip Sydney praiseth those Whose waking wits doth see The depth and ground of verse or prose And speakes with iudgement free . Moises by some men is thought the first deuiser of verse , and his sister Marie deuised the exa●eter , and by it to haue glorified Iehoua . Of all the matters vnder sun Both secrets hie and lowe And ouer them with pen can run As far as skill can goe . Sift eurie word and sentence well And cast away the bran To show the kernell , crack the shell In peeces now and than . That eurie one shall taste the nut Or see where worme hath fed And shoot an arrowe at the but And drawe it to the head . Like archer that can hit the white Ausonius a french man and poet , schoolemaster to Gracianus the Emperor was a● orator and consul of Rome therfore . And win the wager straight With cunning knowledge and delite And suttle sence and slaight . Which looks into the world so round And searcheth eury place To see what may be easlie found Or spoke of ech mans case . To rime and roue in retchles sort He counted reuell rash As whip doth make a horse to snort When carter giues a lash . So ballet makers doth with wind Homer writes that Achilles sonne of Peleus was a singular liricke poet , singing and plaing the noble deeds of cheeftaines . Stir vp a hiue of bees And of the abundance of vaine mind With words in aire he flees . As though it were a thunder crack That neuer brings foorth raine But dailie threatens rune and wrack With ratling rumors vaine . Vaine commedies that stirs vp vice He did condemne and hate He holds that babble of no price That doth infect a state . Linus of Thebes a most ancient poet , he was the sonne of Mercury and wrate the course of the sun , moone , and spheres in excellent verse . Corrupts with words good maners still Offends both eie and eare Brings in loose life by customs ill And takes away true feare Of God and man , such Poets leud Were banisht and exilde Because with foule condishons shreud Their country they defilde . Tiberius Nero the Emperor a poet , and Lucan his tresorer a poet on a publike theater they shewed ●he tragedie Orpheus . Good Poets were in eury age Made of and nourish● well They were the floures of gardens gaie That gaue the goodly smell . The true forewarners of great things That after did befall The ioy of godly vertuous kings And honest subiects all . Our age and former fathers daies ( Leaue Goore and Chauser out ) Hath brought foorth heere but few to praise Search all our soyle about . Adrianus , Augustus Emperor a poet and preferrer of poetrie . Yet of all those that newly wrate In prose or verse of late Let Sydney weare ( for stile of state ) The garland lawreate . Iulianus Empeperor and Caius Iulius Caesar. His bookes makes many bookes to blush They shew such sence and wit Our dribbers shoots not woorth a rush When he the marke doth hit . His phrase is sifted like fine floure Oppianus of great nobilitie . That maketh manchet bread Sweet eury where and nothing soure That flowes from Sydneyes head . Sweete dewe dropt out of Sydneyes quill Sextus Aurelius Propertius one of the Dedicie . As raine great moysture shoes And from his muse there did distill A liquor sweete as rose . Aquintesence , Scenica a spani● knight Neros schoolemaster . a spirit of wine Naie Nectar better namde A breuage for the Gods deuine Of compounds made and framde . That whosoeuer drinks thereon Sophocles and Pericles . Immortall shall be made His books he left to looke vpon When we in worldly shade Sits mumping eury houre of daie ●milius 〈◊〉 , a man of noble parentage . And scarce knows where we are Our braines like bucke doth stande at baie Beset about with care . Of this or that when Sydneyes books Anacreon of Theios with Pollucrates king of the Samiana . Cals vp a drowping ghost For whosoeuer thereon looks ( With worldly troubles tost ) He shall finde quietnes thereby And Christian comfort great Woorth all the treasure vnder skie It climes to Ioues hie seat . A●atus all his life time liued with An●ig●nus . And sits among the Angels sweet Where psalmes and himnes are sung And all base humors vnder fee● Are out of fauor flung . Lucius Cecilli●● , C●sar , play ●●lo●e . The poets that can clime the cloudes Like ship boy to the top When sharpest stormes do shake the shroudes Sets ware to sale in shop . Cirus the poet treasorer of the Emperor Theodocius , and Apatrician . Of heauenly things that earthly men Can scarcely vnderstand Did not our Chausers golden pen ( That beautifide this land . ) Publius and ●aberius companions with Iulius Caesar. Reach to the sunne and highest star And toucht the heauens all A poets knowledge goes so far That it to mind can call . Arian the poet of Periander king of Corinth . Each wonder since this world began And what was seene in skies A poet is no common man He lookes with Argoes eies . Ra●ullides with Iulianus the Emperor . Like Linx throw steele or stonie wals No secret scapes his sight Of future time and what befals In world by day or night . Claudian●s his tomb●●●●ored b●●●nor●●s and A●cadius Emperors . He sees and somtimes writes thereof When scornfull people scowle And makes of earnest words a scoffe Or cals ●aire speeches fowle . Our countrie breeds vp Poets still As grasse springs from good ground For there doth flourish learned skill Where knowledge doth abound . Looke what our elders wits did sowe Or left behinde in heapes Our age and haruest people mowe Or with sharpe sickle reapes . The seede of sence , faire fruit brings foorth In feeld a thousand fold And is in value price and woorth More preshous than the gold . What can be counted foule or cleane But Poets thereon talke Yet thousands knowes not what they meane When they in cloud will walke . As from the fountaine water floes ( Conuaid by gushing pipe ) So from the pen of Poet goes Fine words and sentence ripe . That ech good minde may well digest As sweete as honie sure His termes are taken with the best If verse be neate and pure . As riders whisking wand doth feare Aeschiron in hi● whole militarie expedition , ●amiliar with Alexander . The horse whereon he sits So wrangling people eurie where At verses vex their wits . Masonides honored of Adrian the Emperor . If any writer touch the gall In pastime be it sed Then downe coms tressels house and all Vpon the poore mans head . Yet wise men will good words embrace And take each thing in worth And giue each word and line a grace That poets do set forth . Ariosto liked of all good wits . Diuine du Bartas merits 〈◊〉 Most excellent verse he wrate So sundrie writers in our daies Haue done full well of late . In Spensers morall fairie Queene And Daniels rosie mound If they be throwly waid and seen Much matter may be found . Torquator Tasso an Italian knight and poet laurea● who departed from obliuion to immortalitie this last Aprill 1595. whose memorie shall neuer vanish . One Barnes that Petrarks scholler is May march with them in ranke A learned Templers name I mis Whose pen deserues great thanke . A number more writs well indeed They spring vp newly now As gazing world their works shall reed So shall world praise them throw . But sure my noble Sidneies skill I neuer can forget To him my seruice and good will Shall euer dwell in de●. Of learned lore the onely light Mounsiour D●uereux a yoong Bishop at this day liuing in France , accounted now the singular man in Europ for verse and po●ticall deuises . Which blazde like lampe most cleere And as a star in moone shine night Could vnder cloud appeer . Seemd dim and darke to dazled eies But faire and bright to those That vnderstood the stately gise Of learned verse or prose . Could crack the nut of ●a●●hell And shew the kernell plaine For by his works who notes them well In world he liues againe . The booke that doth of poets treat Sir Phillip Sidney to appology . In golden robes so shines It triumphes still with honor great Among the best diuines . Which booke deckt vp in trim attire Of authors wise and graue In matters of mine owne desire Great light to poetrie gaue . And made me write of poets praise Thus so to starrie skie My Sidneies honor heere I raise As far as fame can flie . FINIS .

My next Booke comes out shortlie : dedicated to my Honorable woorthy friende , Master HENRIE BROOKE , sonne and heire to the noble Lord COBHAM .

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